Day 9: Oh Mr. Sun
Today was a brutality of a day. The sun was bright, the hills were plentiful, and the shoulder was narrow. However, for my work I was rewarded with a beautiful beautiful dinner location. That cover photo is the view from my seat in the restaurant. It’s gonna be a painful 5 miles back to camp, but I think it’s worth it.
River near the campground.
The day started with me sleeping in, then enjoying the morning. (This would later be a mistake, because it got so hot.) I stopped at a local bakery for a nice large breakfast (I ordered around 10 things) then hit the road.
First stop was the Crescent City Lighthouse, which is interesting because it’s only accessible during low tide.
Access path (ugh, I had to push my bike.)
On the way back from the lighthouse I got talking with a lady who told my there had been a tsunami in the area in the 60’s! Who knew? Apparently the museum is worth seeing. Sometimes I think this trip is just generating tons of more trip ideas.
The road out of crescent city was pretty terrible. There’s a 3 inch shoulder, and a large hill. It was not pleasant. Also, it was really hot. However, it was basically continuous redwoods until 3pm, which was great. The entire way there were groves dedicated to people.
The road was brutal. All asphalt and long hills. I was not digging it.
I did get to see the “Big Tree” though. Not sure what makes it big?
My campsite for the night is “Patrick Point State Park” with a campmate John. John is a retired veteran, who must be 65 or older. He’s biking back to his house in Texas. (Apparently he bought 5 acres their for $1500. Wow, that’s cheap.) I’ll talk to him more when I get back to camp, but for now I’m enjoying a beautiful sunset in Trinidad, CA at the seascape.
The food was alright, I had the “fresh catch” which was Halibut. But the view is amazing. I’d definitely come back. Hopefully a short day tomorrow! Goodnight!
Watched and talked with some surfers here. They recommended the dinner location.
Note the standup paddle board. Hippie. I’m jealous.
